


Just My Luck (or, The Three Times Draco Malfoy Used Felix Felices and The One Time He Didn't.)

by sksdwrld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Communication, M/M, Potions, Pre-Slash, Romance, Wooing, boys being stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly divorced Draco is like a kid in the sweets shop but he only has eyes for one confection —Albus Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just My Luck (or, The Three Times Draco Malfoy Used Felix Felices and The One Time He Didn't.)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vayash11](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=vayash11).



> For HP Silencio Challenge-write a fic with no dialogue.

Draco tried to tell himself that the reason he was attracted to Albus Potter was simply because the boy was the first person to walk into Draco's office at the Ministry right after his divorce papers had been finalized. It had absolutely nothing to do with his rakish good looks, fit body and easy smile and it was definitely not because of his charm and youthful bravado.

In fact, Draco spent several days following their run-in trying to convince himself that he hated the boy on principle. Albus was a Potter after all, and it just wouldn't do to be fantasizing over "The Savior's" progeny. And then there was that pesky business of not knowing which proverbial team Albus beat for, although from his cocky swagger and smiles, Draco was willing to bet Albus might just be the MVP for the entire league.

Then, one day he was in the loo when Albus sidled up to the urinal beside him. An undignified squeak escaped Draco and their proximity made him flush. Albus looked over at him and smiled. Draco swore that Albus' eyes flickered down, assessing Draco's member. Then the cheeky brat had the nerve to grin and wink, giving himself a rather zealous shake before zipping up and walking to the sink. Draco could have died on the spot, but looking back, it was that interaction that cemented his crush. Except that Malfoys' didn't have crushes, not at his age, and especially not when the object of his affection was half his age.

It had been too many years since Draco had dated, and he honestly couldn't remember ever attempting to woo anyone. His own marriage had been arranged after all, and he hadn't allowed himself to pursue the desires of youth because he'd refused to actually acknowledge his sexuality until about a decade ago. It had taken three years of lying to himself about the real facts of the matter (he was really and truly gay without an ounce of bisexuality to spare) and another two to work up the nerve to admit it to his wife.

Astoria, bless her, had taken things rather well, but asked him to wait until her father, who was in poor health, to pass. It had taken the bugger five years to kick the cauldron and out of deference to his understanding wife, he'd not soiled the sanctity of their marital bed. Now, he was akin to a kid in the sweets shop, but he only had eyes for one confection, only he was too unsure of himself to make a pass. Would Albus think him too old? Too formal? Too tall? Too thin? Too pointy? Too...Malfoy? Albus' level of confidence was apparent and Draco had no doubt the boy would not look at him twice if Draco approached him as a bumbling and blushing Wizard.

And though Draco might be reliving the awkwardness of his youth in terms of relationship issues, he was by no means a foolish teenager. He was determined to make himself worthy of Albus' consideration at the very least and had both the time and the funds at his disposal to make a proper go of it. All he needed was a plan.

When it came to him, Draco almost laughed at the simplicity of it. There was a decoction that he had learned about as a child. It would take six months to make but he was sure he could find someone who had it in hand, and though costly, the expense would be worth it. This potion could make him suave. It could make him funny. It could make him a formidable presence that Albus would be unable to say 'no' to. It took him two weeks to track down a supplier and cost a month's pay. Once Draco was in his flat, he spent a long time studying the golden, glittering fluid as it clung to the glass walls of the phial then ebbed away. He had either two or four doses, depending on how Draco rationed it. Draco knew that Felix Felicis was dangerously addictive and toxic in large quantities, and he had no desire to turn himself into a junky on Albus' behalf. Still, a little surely couldn't hurt, and if Harry Potter's life was anything to go by, one could theoretically take several doses a year for any number of years and live (happily ever after) to tell about it.

For six days, Draco waffled whether or not to take the potion, and for five nights, Draco wanked himself raw to thoughts of Albus. The day of, he woke up and knew that he was ready. It was like a warm nectar trickling down his throat and pooling in his belly. Within moments, the heat spread through his limbs to each digit. He set the phial down on the edge of the sink and smirked at himself. Today was going to be the day that Draco Malfoy pulled Albus Potter.

And it almost was.

As luck would have it, he ran into Albus in a coffee shop around the corner from the Ministry. He wanted to buy Albus' coffee but Albus beat him to the pitch, paying for Draco's instead. Draco insisted on taking Albus to dinner in retribution and was happy but unsurprised when Albus agreed. Draco insisted that Albus chose the place and was torn between horror and amusement when he named the little French place that Draco had taken Astoria for their first ten anniversaries.

Albus was cultured in a way Harry Potter had never managed and aside from Albus' privileged upbringing, Draco supposed that he had the She-Weasle to thank. Albus laughed at Draco's jokes and brushed his feet against Draco's under the table, and they got along splendidly, especially once Draco learned (much to his surprise) that Albus had been a Slytherin too.

The twelve-hour dose started to wear off sometime after the pudding course and by the time Draco had escorted Albus to the Floo, he was back to nervously wringing his hands. He turned his head at the wrong time and took a glancing kiss to the cheek instead of meeting Albus full on. With a frown, Albus stepped into the flames and in no time, Draco was throwing himself dejectedly onto his sofa.

Three days later,Albus bumped into Draco -literally- in the copier's room. His eyes had flickered over Draco in that accessing way before wondering aloud if Draco ever went clubbing in Soho. Draco hadn't been but he certainly wasn't opposed, especially if Albus would be there as his guide. So, they made plans to run into one another on Friday after work and Draco was so flustered for the rest of the day that he hardly got anything done.

Just before taking off for their date, Draco downed the second twelve-hour dose, leaving him with two more half-days or one complete day of liquid luck. He was flying high on confidence by the time he arrived at the agreed meeting place. Albus was along several minutes later,dressed in tight denims and a fitted tee that showed off his lean but muscular frame. When Albus' hand pressed into the small of Draco's back, Draco felt his arousal flare. Draco let himself be directed into a nearby nightclub. Albus paid for their drinks which were quickly abandoned in favor of the dance Floor because Albus' favorite song was playing.

Albus had an entire repertoire of sexy moves that soon had the other sharks circling. When Albus danced with two blokes closer to his own age, Draco's jealousy sparked despite the Felix Felicis. Draco paid for the second round of drinks and they stood side by side, looking out over the crowd. Albus wanted to know if there was anyone Draco was looking to pull and Draco's response had only been to smirk, finish his drink and stalk back out onto the dance Floor.

It wasn't long before Draco felt the insistent grind of a pelvis against his back end. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed it was Albus. By the third song, Albus' hands were tugging at Draco's hips in a steady rhythm and Albus' breath was hot in his ear. By the fifth song, they were facing one another as they danced, all but trading kisses as each undulation brought them together.

Draco grinned at Albus and Albus grinned back. Draco felt like a giddy teenager with a crush all over again. Each second was filled with the anticipation of another glance, a word, a touch. Their eyes met and held as the song faded away and Albus reached for him. Draco felt as though time slowed as Albus' fingers wove into his hair, tugging him nearer. Albus angled his head and Draco's eyes fixed on Albus' lips. Closer. Closer.

Albus swore suddenly and pulled away before fishing what appeared to be a large gold coin out of his pocket. He regarded it intently for a moment then swore again. Albus pecked Draco on the cheek before taking off. He'd had a family emergency and he was needed as soon as possible. Draco couldn't imagine what sort of family emergencies cropped up after midnight on a Friday night, but supposed that he couldn't put anything past the Potter family.

Determined to make the best of things, Draco waved, straightened his shoulders and began to scout his remaining prospects on the Floor. He might be nearly twice Albus' age, but Draco knew he was still fit and attractive -he knew this because he took great pains to keep himself that way- and could still pull if he wanted to. One off's. That was a thing that men did, wasn't it? And it might not be the best idea to head to Albus' bedchamber as a bumbling and inexperienced virgin. Besides, Draco had the Felix Felicis flowing through his veins. It would have been a shame to waste it.

The bloke Draco had gone home with resembled Albus in a way, if only that he was roughly the same height and had a head full of dark hair. But he had neither Albus' charm nor his wit, nor any of the things that made the young Potter boy appealing. The bloke did have a cock, which Draco didn't suck so much as choke on before allowing his tightly clenched thighs to take the brunt of the brute's pounding. After the clout turned him out, he vowed never to do that again. It hadn't been half as satisfying as he'd imagined, although it had taught him that his technique and gag reflex needed much work.

Monday morning arrived far too quickly for Draco, but his distaste for the day was offset by an apology note and a small bottle of expensive firewhiskey that owled in shortly after he arrived at his desk. The note was impersonal and he couldn't tell if it was a brush off or not. The whiskey was nice, but almost implied Draco would be in need of a drink in the future. He wasn't sure at all how to proceed. He decided it would be best to allow Albus to make the next move, thereby saving himself the trouble of deciphering the scenario.

Then Wednesday rolled around and Draco found he'd won two tickets to the Canon's game, via the quarterly employee morale-boosting lotto. He was the recipient of many congratulatory visitors that day, a number of whom came to inquire whether or not he would need a guest to accompany him to the match. By the end of the day, Draco was sick of people bothering him and vowed to give both tickets to the next person who walked in the door. Not five minutes later,there was a knock and Draco didn't even bother to look up from his work. He just tossed the envelope in the person's general direction and tried to shoo them off quickly.

Belatedly of course, he'd realized it was Albus but did his best to go about his plan of ignoring his attraction and the hopeful tug on his heartstrings and everything else that accompanied an Albus-sighting. It was important to get him out of Draco's office as fast as possible before Draco said or did something foolish again.

Except that Albus wouldn't take the bloody tickets and Draco didn't really want them anymore and they went back and forth until Draco agreed to accompany Albus to the game. Only then did Draco learn that Albus had merely been stopping by on account of the Billory file he was cross-referencing and Draco felt like a pillock all over again.

That weekend, they'd arrived at the Portkey location. Draco's veins were humming with liquid luck and when their fingers brushed together as they held an empty crisps bag, he felt a tugging sensation in his stomach. His eyes squeezed tight out of habit and a few moments later,he peeked them open, only to find he was in exactly the same place as he was before, only now Albus was looking at him funny. Draco brushed it off as sun in his eye and soon enough they were translocating for real.

At the Stadium, Albus placed his hand once more at the small of Draco's back as they made their way to their seats and the feel of it made Draco's skin tingle. He relaxed back into the touch. It felt good and made him wonder what it would be like to have Albus' arm around his waist or their hands intertwined, or any other dastardly combination of skin on skin that his mind was creative enough to employ. They discussed team statistics and bantered a bit until the players emerged from the locker rooms and began their warm-up flights around the pitch. As the match started, Draco and Albus fell silent, save for the occasional cheer or quip about one player or another. Two hours in, and there was no end in sight. Albus looked beyond bored and insisted on retrieving refreshments for the two of them. Draco was looking forward to a cold drink himself, and if the match stretched on much longer, was planning to suggest they go somewhere more conducive to chatting. After all, they hadn't exactly paid for the tickets.

It was absurd, but Draco had taken a real liking to Albus -it was so much more than a silly crush. They had only met up a handful of times, but Draco thought they already had plenty in common, much more than he'd ever shared with Astoria. Albus' enthusiasm for life made Draco feel young and carefree again. Despite the minor turbulence they'd hit due to misunderstandings, Draco felt happy. He was convinced that Albus was good for him and would be good to him in the future.

After thirty minutes had passed, Draco started to look around for Albus, wondering if perhaps the concession lines were exorbitantly long. They weren't, and Draco's next thought was that the young man had gotten lost on the way back. He scouted the stands for Albus for a few minutes but there was no sign of him. Draco got up, deciding that he would use the loo first and look for Albus when he was done. The stadium men's room was nearly empty. Draco took a moment after washing his hands to fix his hair in the mirror. He'd noticed that he was starting to acquire that windblown look, which would have looked smashing on a much younger version of himself but now only affected a somewhat out of sorts older gentleman, and there was no way he wanted Albus to think of him in that sense. Draco departed the loo and glanced in both directions to see if he could spot

Albus' neatly styled dark hair and green striped scarf. Eventually, he spotted the tail of said scarf, peeking around a corner near the concessions area. Draco crept closer, intending to give Albus a scare. The git deserved it for making him wait so long. And, if Draco was lucky-which of course he was bound to be- Albus might reward him for his troubles with a hearty laugh and a lingering kiss. As Draco neared, he could hear Albus carrying on a conversation in tones too low to discern actual words. Curious about who Albus might be chatting with, Draco changed tactics and took the corner widely. It was just in time to see a man Albus' age push Albus back against the wall and snog him soundly.

Draco quickly did an about face, but he was already completely deflated. The bubbling thrill that had been coursing through him was gone, negated by what he had just seen. He went back to their seat in the stands and numbly sat there, berating himself for being an idiot. Of course Albus didn't have any romantic feelings for Draco. They were co-workers. Friends perhaps. Draco was old enough to be Albus' father. A few minutes later,Albus returned without the refreshments he had gone for in the first place. He looked flustered and wanted to leave, in favor of a cafe down a ways from the stadium. Draco wondered if Albus had noticed him spying on the young couple but decorum would not allow him to pursue that conversation.

Nevertheless, they had shared a portkey and one man could not leave without the other. They still had forty minutes to go until it activated, according to the Tempus Draco cast thus he glumly agreed, trying to shake off his feelings of moroseness as he stood. Draco was unable to get past what he had seen however, and feigned sudden illness in order to avoid conversation.

When he finally got home, he dumped the remaining dose of Felix Felicis down the drain and smashed the phial it came in. Not only had it been utterly useless and failed him thrice, but he was swearing off Albus Potter as well as all handsome, charming, funny and witty men more than five years younger than himself. Pursuing the boy had been a stupid idea in the first place. Albus had been good wank-fodder while it lasted, but Draco was done with that too. He had to move on otherwise this Potter obsession (and that's exactly what he told himself it was) was going to kill him.

Draco forced himself to be cool and distant at work. He avoided Albus when possible and was perfunctory toward him when it wasn't. He tried to ignore the wounded looks Albus gave him. After all, if anyone should feel wounded it was Draco, for letting himself be led on by his son's age-mate who clearly was more interested in playing the field than a serious relationship.

When he received the invitation for the ministry ball, Draco thought nothing of checking off the RSVP 1 box and sending it back through interoffice-owl. He did not agonize over the fact that he was dateless for the first time since his employment and looked forward to enjoying the evening for once without worrying whether or not Astoria (or anyone for the matter) was bored, needed another drink, or fancied a dance. Draco did not stop to consider for one second that all of the singletons would be seated at one sad table or that Albus would even consider showing up without someone pretty hanging off his arm. When Draco took his seat, he smiled to the woman seated on his left before peering over at the name card of the empty seat to his left, then immediately felt all the blood drain from his face. Albus Potter -the one Wizard that he had gone out of his way to get away from nearly every day for the last month. Draco immediately stood and excused himself. At the bar, he ordered a measure of scotch, which he tossed down with ease before holding the glass out for a refill.

His stomach was full of butterflies at the thought of carrying on polite conversation with Albus throughout the night. Even when he thought he was in love with the sod, he'd required the aid of Felix Felicis. Not only did he not have any at his disposal, but he'd already introduced himself to the woman next to him and it would be terribly uncouth to disappear before the dessert course. Draco tried to tell himself that Albus was a mere boy and his reaction was unwarranted, but none of his organs would comply (his gut was churning, he had a sudden headache, and his palms were sweaty). He was simply going to have to ply them with alcohol until he had everything back under control.

After tossing back both scotches, Draco thought he ought to sit down and await the effects before imbibing further. Albus' seat remained long empty and Draco was beginning to hope that the young man was a no-show. Just as the minister took to the podium to welcome everyone, a body slid into the chair. Draco didn't have to look askance to know it was Albus. He could tell just from the spicy musk of Albus' signature cologne that wafted his way. Draco's eyelids fluttered as he breathed it in. There was a clink of a glass set on the table, and then the sound of it being scraped across toward him. A hasty glance confirmed it was another neat scotch. Draco raised his eyes to Albus, who hesitantly smiled, nodded, and looked to the minister. Merlin, but the boy did know how to get his attention.

Draco sipped it slowly but by the time the speakers had finished welcoming, congratulating, and pontificating, he was already buzzed and managed to knock over his water glass. The warmth in his belly was reminiscent of the thrice-failed potion but the uncoordination was all booze. There was a brief period between the speeches and the first course where Draco felt obligated to converse with Albus. Once he began, he found he was unable to stop, even after the food was served. Polite indifference was a difficult act for Draco to pull off despite sobering slightly during the meal and Albus had easily discovered the best way to keep Draco talking was by providing a steady supply of Scotch.

Draco hadn't meant to let himself be bought this way, but it was better than stuttering and blundering awkwardly through the mealtime conversation. It also meant that he'd lied to himself about being over Albus and worse, it meant that Draco lacked both self-control and self-respect. He ought to be hanging his head in shame rather than on Albus' every word but there was nothing to be done for it. He guessed that he was making a fool of himself and Albus was going along with it so that he could finally cross Draco off his list and put another notch on his belt. Draco also suspected that he would be more upset about it the next day than he was currently.

It wasn't until most people vacated to the dance Floor that their conversation was able to address more private affairs and Draco learned that the bloke he'd caught Albus kissing at the Cannon's game was actually an obsessed ex from several failed relationships prior. The knowledge made Draco's heart sing, and he'd delivered Albus an enthusiastic but sloppy kiss, complete with an unintelligible apology.

The grin that lit Albus' face was decidedly boyish, but full of charm nonetheless and Draco had been unable to resist Albus' request for a dance. Ultimately, neither of them had been able to rescind the lead position, but shared a good laugh over their bruised feet before retiring to the patio with drinks in hand.

Draco had lost track of how much he'd imbibed throughout the course of the evening but figured that one more couldn't hurt, not if it was his last one. And besides, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. Even his brief encounter with a menacing Harry Potter in papa-bear mode hadn't deterred either Draco's mood or his pursuit of Albus. It was almost funny...Draco had spent a small fortune on Felix Felicis and less than two galleons on second rate Scotch, obtaining better results with the latter.

Draco had been leaning back against Albus' broad, well-developed chest and looking up at the stars when he suddenly felt dizzy. The sensation came upon him so quickly that he dropped his half-finished drink as he sagged in Albus' arms. There was a rushing sound in his ears that prevented him from hearing what Albus was saying to him. He nodded anyway since Albus seemed much more sober than Draco, meaning that any idea the young man had was great by default.

Albus supported Draco easily (or at least it seemed to Draco) and they navigated the crowd until they got to the Floo network. The whirling sensation made Draco feel infinitely worse and the last thing Draco saw after the green flames died down was parkay flooring of his sitting room rushing toward his face.

Blackness was punctuated by an unpleasant spinning sensation that might have gone on for hours or minutes. Time was irrelevant. Draco slowly awoke, becoming aware that it was painfully bright somewhere beyond his eyelids. Aside from the urgent throbbing in his bladder, his right leg felt uncomfortably tight. He spent an inordinate amount of time trying to determine why that was the case until it dawned on him that he'd fallen asleep in his trousers. He wiggled his leg about under the covers until it became obvious that he would have to sit up and untangle himself properly.

Just as he was about to scowl, he heard the flush of a toilet. It startled him and despite the painful haze in his brain, his thoughts began to race. Someone else was there. Draco had brought someone home. No, Albus had brought Draco home. For a fleeting moment, Draco began to panic that they'd had sex and he didn't remember it. But had they done anything? An experimental clench of his backside told him no. He wasn't sore there and he wasn't sticky anywhere that he could tell.

But had Albus shared his bed? Draco forced one eye open in order to make an assessment. The pillows were absent from the side of the bed Draco hadn't slept on. They had been relocated to the leather settee beside his armoire, along with the fringed Pendleton chevron throw that usually adorned the foot of his bed. For once, Draco was thankful for Potter-nobility that appeared to have spared his dignity and his chastity. He allowed himself to collapse back into his pillows momentarily but his bladder twinged, urging Draco to his feet.

He blindly groped his way to the ensuite, too hungover to care what Albus was doing in there, too desperate to think about how Albus might perceive him. He'd barely shaken the piss from his prick when something small and cool found its way into his free hand. Draco glanced at it and recognized it as one of the hangover potions from his medicine cabinet. He sucked it down and accepted the toothbrush Albus passed him with only a raised eyebrow as commentary.

Finished, Draco glanced at Albus who was chewing his lower lip. Draco had thought a cock-sure Albus was sexy, but this uncertain look was a solid rival. He let his eyes roam over the young man before him. Albus had slept in his trousers too, on Draco's settee of all places. But even sleep-rumpled and standing in the bathroom, Albus looked divine. Draco unconsciously licked his lips and pressed the heel of his hand against his growing erection.

They stood there, assessing one another for what seemed like an absurdly long time. Finally, Albus reached his hand out, curling it around the nape of Draco's neck and tugged him closer. Draco's eyes fell shut and he felt a warm breath ghost across his lips, which parted just in time to receive Albus' kiss -the barest tantalizing slide of their mouths together. A tingling ache sparked on his lips and travelled down to his pelvis, filling him with want. Albus walked Draco backwards into his bedroom, each kiss growing bolder and firmer.

As Albus laid Draco upon the twisted sheets, he paused to obtain Draco's permission before proceeding further. Draco almost laughed. So many events in his life had come to pass whether he wanted them to or not, but none had been so momentous as this, it seemed. Born wealthy and spoiled, there had not been much Draco had ever wanted for, and even less he'd been denied. Through fault only his own, this too had been delayed, but Draco reveled nonetheless. Albus was finally his and he had no plans on letting go of him any time soon.


End file.
